Out of my hand
by TheBordelineNonAlcoholicWriter
Summary: "Wouldn't it be interesting to see Sam trying to talk a gun out of Dean's hand?" - Someone Everyday Dean took out his gun and always choose to put it away again. But what if he starts to take it out more often? And that it becomes harder to put it away? TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE/SUICIDEATTEMPT


**Just a short thing that popped up in my head. I love this show so much.**

* * *

Some nights were worse than others… and all nights were pretty damn awful. How many rocks can be thrown at a window before it shatters? No, how many times can you fix a broken window before you just get a new one? Normally it only needs to break once before getting replaced, Dean was well overdue. But of course, his life never really belonged to him to begin with. His mission had always been to protect Sammy, so naturally Sam owned his life. But in recent years his life had been thrown around among other people, like Alistair in hell or the angels. Was Dean just a toy or a tool? He started to feel like it.

No Dean wasn't one of those delusional people who only saw the negative parts of life (at least he say that he isn't). He knew that there existed people who cared about him, even if it might've just have been Sam and Cas. But there is a big difference between leaving because no one cares or leaving BECAUSE they care. It's simple, really. Either you give yourself up because your life is meaningless or because your life ruins other's lives. You see, Dean is poison and a magnet of death. People get close, people die. How many more lives had to end thanks to him? A habit he had picked up from Bobby; every day (mostly before falling asleep) he would pick up his gun and point it at his head and sit alone with his thoughts for a while before putting it away. But lately it was different. Not only did he do it more frequently, he also put ammunition in it… and today he actually loaded the weapon and had a shaking thumb on the trigger. "I-I can't do this", Dean whispered. His eyes were watery but he couldn't produce any tears. He couldn't see his own reflection, but he imagined that he looked like a dirty emotionless doll with blank and empty eyes. At least that was how he felt like.

His thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of his phone; it must have been from Cas, but he had intention of answering his call. Castiel might try to talk him out of it (zap to his room and beat the gun out of his hand) and he didn't need that. The buzzing spread from the phone in his back pocket through his leg, but he paid it no mind. It continued to ring for about ten minutes before Dean decided to just turn his phone off, or he might just give in. He angled the gun slightly away from his head as he reached into his pocket. "Dean? Are you… ?" A knocking on the door startled Dean so he accidentally pulled the trigger. Thanks to the new position; the bullet flew past his ear and into the corner of the room. That sound probably echoed in the whole bunker. The knocking on the door became more panicked, but the door was closed this time. "Dean!? Dean, what's going on in there!? DEAN!?" Sam called and started to slam his whole body against the wooden surface. Dean reloaded the gun and pointed it at his head again. His ears were ringing thanks to the noise and his head hurt. "Sammy! Stop it! It's too late! I don't want you to see this". Sam stopped attacking the door. Dean could hear his heavy breathing from the other side. "Dean… what's going on, where you getting attacked? Are you hurt!? Who's in there with you!?" Dean gulped; why did you have to come here, Sammy? "It's… it's just me here Sammy. Just j-just _please_ leave me be. I'm okey Sammy, I will be okey". It was silent for a while before Sam asked the dreaded question: "Are you really alright Dean? Talk to me". Sam started to sound alarmed, like he knew that something bad was about to happen… but not _what_. Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I'm not… I'm not alright S-Sammy… I… I can't do this anymore". Despite his fear, his hands were no longer shaking. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Sam asked while trying to force the door open again. "Open this door Dean! Open it now! Or I'll break it!" "I don't want to hurt you anymore Sam, I don't want to hurt anyone. I… I can't… ". "OPEN THE DOOR!" Sam growled but stopped ramming the door again when he heard Dean load the gun again. "P-please. Don't do this, d-don't. I can't do this without you D-dean, _we_ can't do this without you. You can't just run away, stay if you don't want to hurt us!" Sam sounded angry, but he was tearing up. Deep down he knew that this day would come, but he still couldn't accept it. Dean answered with a shaky and broken voice; "This have to stop Sam. I'm a disease, I-I… You and Cas should be able to go on without me. I know you can, I". Sam let out a humorless laugh. "What are you talking about? Do you really think we would just let you do this? You are my _brother,_ Dean. What makes you think that you… that you can just, j-just t-take your life? I won't let you!" Sam was definitely crying now, but Dean blocked it out. Sam started to hit the door again, but his hits were less violent and more desperate. "Please just open the door! W-we can talk about this, please! Please Dean! I- I… ". "G-g… goodbye S-sammy", Dean whispered, but it was loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam's heart started to beat faster. "Dean! DEAN NO!" Another gunshot echoed between the walls in the bunker and Sam froze. "D-dean?" He said hopefully but got no answer. "Dean!?" Every inch of sadness was pushed away by anger as Sam screamed and started to hit the closest wall. He had let Dean down again, how could he not have stopped this?

The pain in his knuckles couldn't distract him from the sadness for long because soon the tears started to fall. But the door to Dean's room flew up before Sam could fall deeper in despair. Out came Castiel, holding up an stiff (but very much alive) Dean. Sam wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and hurried towards his brother. He laughed out relieved as he felt for a pulse on Dean's neck and found it. "Thank you, thank you!" Sam grabbed Dean from out of Castiel's hold (which Castiel wasn't fully comfortable with) and carried him to the kitchen to check for injuries. The bullet managed to only make a shallow wound on the back of his head; Cas must have pulled it away from the vital point at the last second. "Dean?" Sam said but Dean only blinked while looking at nothing. Cas walked over to Dean without saying anything and put his fingers on Dean's forehead to to heal the wound before slapping him hard enough for him to fall down on the floor. Sam tensed and Dean blinked a few times before looking up at his best friend. "Don't. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That. EVER. Again", Castiel threatened with clenched teeth. Dean looked away. "NO!" Cas growled and used his grace to force Dean to look at him again. "Look at me! Look what you almost did to Sam! Do you really think that we would _like_ for you to die?" Dean dared to glance at his little brother and his heart dropped at the sight. Sam looked so broken, so _destroyed_. How could he do that to him? Dean looked back at Cas and discovered that Cas was just pretending to be furious; he was actually holding back _tears._ "You-you told me that I was your family, D-dean. You and Sam are-are _my_ family too. I won't… I won't let you take that away from us". Sam sat down next to Dean on the ground and wrapped him up in a tight hug. "We care about you, Dean. You're not a burden to us, what makes you think that? People die around us all. Don't you remember what you said? The only thing we have are _each other_ ". Dean hugged him back just as tightly. "I'm… I-I'm sorry S-sammy. You t-too, Cas. I was stupid, I was… ". "Yeah, we know", Sam answered and they chuckled before looking up at Castiel. "How did you even know what I was...?" Dean asked. "I believe you did something humans call; Butt dialing". Cas answered and made air quotes. "So we're thanking my butt?" "I'd rather not do that", Sam said.


End file.
